


Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

by DixieDale



Series: The Life and Times of One Peter Newkirk [53]
Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-19 21:26:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14881505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Just what constitutes beauty?  That is the age-old question often pondered by poets and philosophers alike.  But for Peter, Andrew and Caeide, there is no question.  They have it all figured out.





	Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

{"She's just so beautiful!"} She was just how he'd pictured her from the letters, just like he remembered her from his dreams and from their first meeting. That first time . . . he remembered how he'd kissed her on her soft velvety cheek; she'd looked at him with those eyes and made that noise deep in her throat, then reached over and kissed him back, right on his cheek too, and he'd laughed with total joy! He loved looking at her, never got tired of looking at her! She was beautiful, dark silky red hair, expressive brown eyes, long sleek legs, strong shoulders, lushy curved chest, well-rounded hips, and a truly extraordinary tail! And, boy, was she ever pregnant! He sighed with pleasure as he watched her. 

He heard Peter come up behind him, "whatcha lookin at, Andrew?"

He sighed again, "She's just so beautiful, isn't she, Peter?" with a silly grin on his face. Peter looked at his Andrew, his friend, his luv, not even trying to hide his amusement.

"If you say so, Andrew, you're more of a judge o that than I am. Can't say she looks much different than any other female of 'er rather advanced age, in 'er condition, but that's just me."

Andrew looked at him in shock. "You can't mean that! I mean, just look at her!" and looked back out over the fence into the green pasture beyond. There she stood, strong well-shaped head raised into the wind, ears perked forward as if she was listening for something or someone, her long red mane silky smooth against her dappled red body, that long tail, a slightly deeper shade of red, brushing almost to the ground. And that belly? Well, it looked like she was ready to pop at any time!

He sighed again, and Peter chuckled, turned away shaking his head. "Well, they always say, 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder!'" 

The old mare, frame narrowed some with age, face a bit hollowed over and under her brown eyes, white now mixed with the dark red of her coat, took a long look into the pond at her feet. Seeing her reflection pictured against the blue of the reflected sky, she looked after the two humans, two of those she claimed as hers, shaking her head in gentle wonder at the words from the smaller one. Then she went back to musing on this new life she was carrying inside her, perhaps the last of the many she'd bear to her beautiful magical love, amazed as always that he still came to her, still desired her after all these many years. {"How beautiful he is, how beautiful!"}

He got back up to the house to find Caeide just out of the shower, brushing back her long red hair, starting to reach for her robe. His blue-green eyes moved from her head down, then back up again. {"Now, that's beautiful,"} he thought to himself, giving another chuckle.

She looked at him, brown eyes smiling into his, "something I should know, or something I'm better off not knowing?" she asked, glancing down, thinking ruefully of the changes the years of hard work, the battles, and three sets of twins, well and now this fourth set, had made in her body.

He just shook his head, moving over to cup her chin in his hand, lowering his head and moving his lips over hers in a slow, lingering kiss, sliding his other hand over her full breasts, over the new swell of her belly, over the mound of damp red curls below.

"I need to get dressed, get a start on supper," she murmured at him, swallowing, trembling at the feel of him tracing the line of her lips with his tongue, at the feel of him moving closer, tighter against her, cupping her well-rounded hips in his hands, pulling her into him.

"No you don't, not really," and she discovered that, truly, no she didn't. 

Of course, eventually she did need to find clothes and put them on, but then, so did he, having somehow lost his all across her bedroom floor. She didn't even think to go look for hers, though, not while she could watch him retrieve his, watch that long rangy body moving, reaching, bending, finding herself tighten just a bit at the sight, no matter he'd done so well by her and you'd think she'd be well content for awhile.

Nevertheless, she watched, and thought, as she always did, always had at the sight of him this way, even from that first time when she'd so hurriedly undressed him to tend him, to treat his wounds in London after that brawl in the alley, {"now, there's truly a beautiful sight, that is!"} at the long graceful flow of his lean body, and sighed. 

He turned to look at her, at the sound, his eyes wary, knowing just how many scars he bore, on his face, more so on his body, the aging that had come on too fast, too early from all he'd gone through, the weathering of the work and the years.

"Now just what are you thinking, Caeide-girl?" to hear that totally wicked chuckle come from her throat.

"Just thinking perhaps I might skip dinner, have a bit of a snack up here instead," to see him look puzzled, then, wonder of wonders, to see his eyes widen and to see him blush! Oh, how she loved doing that to him, making him realize just how she saw him, how much she desired him! Made him see, remind him just how desirable he truly WAS in her eyes!

He put a mock frown on his face, dropping his clothes back onto the floor in a heap, walking back, no, she thought with a giggle, strutted back toward the bed.

"Now, I think I should take that as a bit of an insult; always considered meself more of a gourmet meal, I 'ave, not just a snack . . ." only to be interrupted by Andrew making his way merrily through the door, preceded only by the barest hint of a knock, certainly with no time for anyone to have responded.

"Hey, guys . . ."

He stopped dead in his tracks, stared, swallowed hard. Peter, naked, his long lean body finally filled out some with the good food and good care he now received, muscles well defined from the work Haven required of each of them, starting to get just a hint of an erection, well, under Andrew's avid gaze, now quite a bit more than a hint! Wow! Yeah, not anything like a hint anymore! Yep, that certainly was a real . . . His breathing quickened, he blinked rapidly and raised his eyes to meet Peter's and shivered.

He dragged his eyes away to look at Caeide, sitting mermaid-style on the bed, red hair flowing over her strong shoulders, the red matching that very visible triangle of red curls, full breasts even fuller with the pregnancy, that lovely small swell of her belly, her lips moist, her eyes bright with desire, that smile on her lips as she looked at him, that soft welcoming laugh now coming out.

He knew he was skinny and knobby and kinda ferret-faced, and still, after all these years, sometimes couldn't believe he was here, with them, that these two people he loved so much really wanted him with them. {"Oh my gosh, how beautiful they are,"} and he felt himself responding, moving closer, reaching for the buttons on his shirt, and the welcome he saw in their faces and in their eyes made them even more beautiful to him.

Peter looked at his younger friend, his luv, and saw not just the slightly narrow face looking back at him, that strong wiry body, those gentle hands, he saw the years together in the camp, the support, the kindness, the caring, the need and love they'd had to deny and hide; he saw the warmth and eagerness and joy they shared together now. Caeide looked at that sweet face, a face worn by two of her sons, those brown eyes that showed so much enthusiasm for life now, so eager to share and give and love. Peter and Caeide looked at each other, smiled and thought in unison, {"how beautiful he is, our Andrew!"} as they reached out to him.

He looked around later, "hey, guys, anyone know where my clothes are?" and looked at them with a puzzled frown at their joined laugh. {"Sometimes they get tickled at the strangest things!"}

Later, when they DID finally go down to a make-shift supper, there being no hurry since Maude was off visiting with Marisol and Kinch, having taken ALL the children, bless her, to give the three of them some alone time, Peter saw Andrew smiling to himself, "and what 'as you so amused, my Andrew?"

"Not so much amused, just remembering when Cally was getting Marya out of Germany, when Marya got hurt, got that really bad cut across her face. Remember what Cally told her, what Kinch said was a really good line?"

And Peter thought back, and a warm smile crossed his face and he chuckled softly, nodding. Caeide waited, and then, seeing as how they didn't seem inclined to continue, had to ask, "and just what was that, loves?"

Andrew looked at her, looked at Peter, then back at her again, "Cally told her, "you don't have to spend money on mirrors; if you want to see how beautiful you are, just look at your reflection in my eyes."

Caeide thought, smiled and said, "and what made you think of that just now, Andrew?"

He shrugged, "oh, I don't know, just something that came to my mind."

Throughout the rest of the meal, an occasional smile would appear on one or the other of their faces, as those words came to their minds also, and they would look at the other two at the table, smile gently, and nod in agreement with those words spoken in that cold prisoner of war camp, and no matter what phrasing, what accent, the same thought came to each of them, {"no, I don't need mirrors, not with what I see reflected in their eyes."}


End file.
